Post by account_disabled on Dec 28, 2023 2:10:34 GMT -5
Apollo Mission Control Center, Building 30, Manned Spacecraft Center, Houston, Texas. July 20, 1969, time 102:42:08 get Bzzz. A continuous buzz broke the silence inside the control room. Dozens of eyes turned towards Charlie Duke, capcom of the Apollo 11 mission. He was tense about the outcome of the moon landing – and at that moment he certainly couldn't imagine that in less than three years he would be in the same shoes as Armstrong and Aldrin , in the future Apollo 16 mission, and another capcom would be live in its place. Everyone was tense at Mission Control. It was the first crewed mission to land on the Moon. America would have had two astronauts walk on the Earth's natural satellite and the whole world would have their eyes glued to the television watching live TV or with their ears glued to the radio, so as not to miss a single word of what was happening beyond two hundred thousand miles from Earth.
It was the event of the century, of the millennium, indeed. “Houston here,” the man finally said, trying to drown out that annoying buzz with his unmistakably Southern accent. «You are cleared to land. Step." Bzzz. “Okay,” said the distant voice of Neil Armstrong, “3000 to 70.” “Good, got it,” Buzz Aldrin added. «Cleared to land. Three thousand feet.” Bzzz . Moon, Sea of Tranquility, time 102:45:58 get Bzzz. "We'll check you in down, Eagle ," Duke's voice said from Earth. He seemed Special Data satisfied and even heartened that everything was proceeding according to plan. “Houston, Tranquility Base here,” Armstrong's voice was calm, almost cold inside the protective helmet. « Eagle landed.» Bzzz “Good, Tranquility,” Duke replied, smiling with relief. «We will register you on the ground. There are a lot of people here who had turned blue. Now we breathe again.
A thousand thanks." And a fit of euphoria broke out at Mission Control. Moon, Sea of Tranquility, time 109:23:38 get Bzzz. “I'm at the foot of the ladder,” Armstrong announced. “The lem 's pads have sunk just 1 or 2 inches into the surface, although it looks very fine when you get close. It almost looks like dust." The moment was delicate. Historic. Armstrong had just set foot on the ground, the first man in human history to step on the moon. The gloved hands still held onto the ladder, as if detaching themselves had sanctioned something immeasurable, even inevitable, the beginning of a new era, of an unknown, spatial, extraterrestrial future. It was now done, they had conquered the Moon, despite the crazy race of the Russians, who had tried in every way to surpass them in this mission with the Luna 15 probe. But Apollo 11 was destined to win, Armstrong had hoped for it with everything himself.
It was the event of the century, of the millennium, indeed. “Houston here,” the man finally said, trying to drown out that annoying buzz with his unmistakably Southern accent. «You are cleared to land. Step." Bzzz. “Okay,” said the distant voice of Neil Armstrong, “3000 to 70.” “Good, got it,” Buzz Aldrin added. «Cleared to land. Three thousand feet.” Bzzz . Moon, Sea of Tranquility, time 102:45:58 get Bzzz. "We'll check you in down, Eagle ," Duke's voice said from Earth. He seemed Special Data satisfied and even heartened that everything was proceeding according to plan. “Houston, Tranquility Base here,” Armstrong's voice was calm, almost cold inside the protective helmet. « Eagle landed.» Bzzz “Good, Tranquility,” Duke replied, smiling with relief. «We will register you on the ground. There are a lot of people here who had turned blue. Now we breathe again.
A thousand thanks." And a fit of euphoria broke out at Mission Control. Moon, Sea of Tranquility, time 109:23:38 get Bzzz. “I'm at the foot of the ladder,” Armstrong announced. “The lem 's pads have sunk just 1 or 2 inches into the surface, although it looks very fine when you get close. It almost looks like dust." The moment was delicate. Historic. Armstrong had just set foot on the ground, the first man in human history to step on the moon. The gloved hands still held onto the ladder, as if detaching themselves had sanctioned something immeasurable, even inevitable, the beginning of a new era, of an unknown, spatial, extraterrestrial future. It was now done, they had conquered the Moon, despite the crazy race of the Russians, who had tried in every way to surpass them in this mission with the Luna 15 probe. But Apollo 11 was destined to win, Armstrong had hoped for it with everything himself.